


Reckoning

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Blackwatch Era, M/M, Makeup Sex, Overwatch Retribution, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:58:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14301306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Blackwatch wasn’t supposed to be in the forefront; their entire purpose is to operate in the shadows, work behind the scenes to sabotage the machinations of evil, to give the good guys the upper hand. The whole point of Blackwatch is to keep the world safe. It’s not pretty - Jesse knows that, personally, intimately - but there are rules. They have to be careful so that they can keep doing what they do best. So that they can continue to keep the world safe.With one shell from his shotgun, Gabe blew it all away.---After the Venice incident, Jesse has some things to think about.





	Reckoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts), [vageege](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vageege/gifts), [super](https://archiveofourown.org/users/super/gifts).



> Hey wow, how about that Retribution event, huh? I guess McReyes is canon now (ﾉ✿◕ヮ◕)ﾉ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 
> 
> I took a break from Camp NaNoWriMo to bang this out. Enjoy!! 
> 
> BIG shout out to [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/) for the super fast beta. She's a gift and a saint, as always ♥
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](https://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic)!

It’s hours after the debrief and Jesse is exhausted. He trudges back to his own quarters, looking forward to a shower and a couple of hours of sleep before he has to get up and start cleaning up this whole mess - if he’s able to get to sleep at all. 

Jesse’s pissed. 

He’s too tired to be pissed off, and too pissed off to be tired. The anger thrums in his veins even as he strips off his tac gear and steps into the shower. He turns the water up hot until the bathroom fills with steam, standing under the stream even as his skin turns red. 

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. 

Blackwatch wasn’t supposed to be in the forefront; their entire purpose is to operate in the shadows, work behind the scenes to sabotage the machinations of evil, to give the good guys the upper hand. The whole  _ point _ of Blackwatch is to keep the world safe. It’s not pretty - Jesse knows that, personally, intimately - but there are rules. They have to be careful so that they can keep doing what they do best. So that they can continue to keep the world safe. 

With one shell from his shotgun, Gabe blew it all away. 

He isn’t sure if he wants to yell at Gabe or throw a punch. Jesse bangs his fist against the shower wall, gritting his teeth. Gabe should’ve known better - he  _ does _ know better, Jesse knows he does. Then -  _ why? _

He hadn’t meant it when he suggested killing Antonio - not really. Sure, the guy probably deserved it when all is said and done, but there are rules. There is a method to the way Blackwatch gets things done. They’re not bad guys. Jesse’s killed before, of course, and he’ll kill again too. But, with Blackwatch, it’s never in cold blood. They’re not assassins. What Gabe did to Antonio was… it was an execution, plain and simple. And that sort of thing doesn’t sit well with Jesse. It feels like he’s back in Deadlock all over again. He thought he put that life behind him, that he had turned over a new leaf, that he was on the side of the good guys - did he really just trade one terrorist gang for another? The thought makes him feel absolutely sick. 

Maybe Jesse  _ doesn’t  _ have the stomach for this. 

But it had never been like this, either. 

Jesse turns off the shower and dries off. Back in his bed, he spends all of twenty minutes trying to fall asleep before he gives up. He gets dressed and heads down to the Blackwatch command center to get a head start on all the cleanup work that’s surely already begun. The door slides open after Jesse keys in the code, and he hears a whispered conversation come to an abrupt halt. Jesse pauses on the threshold. At the command console stand Gabe and Moira. Jesse feels his gut sour and twist. He turns on his heel. 

“Jesse -” he hears Gabe call out after him, but he keeps walking. He doesn’t want to hear what Gabe has to say, not right now, and certainly not in front of Moira. 

Jesse strides away with no destination in mind - just  _ away _ , anywhere to put some distance between himself and Gabe, and whatever Gabe was talking about with Moira. Moira’s growing influence in Blackwatch (on Gabe, his subconscious corrects, though he tries to ignore it) hasn’t sat well with Jesse. She’s a scientist, first and foremost, and a doctor maybe third or fourth down on the list. She’s not a medic like Angela - and that’s not why Gabe hired her. Jesse knows that. He’s spent long nights with Gabe shivering and shaking from the lingering effects of the SEP augmentations. Moira’s expertise is important. But Jesse has thought, for a long while now, that Moira’s influence was making an undue impression on Gabe. 

Which isn’t to say that Jesse hasn’t said as much to Gabe - but every time he had, Gabe dismissed Jesse’s concerns out of hand. And, because Jesse trusts him, Jesse believes him. 

But this…

Jesse’s feet carry him to a lounge on one of the upper floors of the building. It’s got an enormous window overlooking the valley below, almost pitch black given the time of night. Jesse crosses to the window and braces himself against it with both hands, focusing on the inky darkness on the other side of the glass, forcing himself to take deep breaths. 

He’s being paranoid. There’s nothing wrong with Gabe conferring with Moira, even at this hour. They’ve had a long day and their job isn’t over, even if they’ve officially been dismissed from the case. 

So why does it make the bile rise in Jesse’s throat?

Some of her words as they made their escape to the extraction point ring in his ears; Jesse is sure he wasn’t meant to hear Moira telling Gabe she thought he did the right thing by killing Antonio. How does she know that that was the right call to make? The mission overview Gabe shared when they first set out was vague - did she know of him before all of this happened? Not to mention the way she needled at Jesse, her dry voice making his blood boil. 

Why does it feel like Gabe is listening to her more than he listens to Jesse these days?

Jesse isn’t sure how long he stands there, concentrating on his breath even as his mind races. He hears the door to the lounge slide open behind him. His shoulders go tense, listening to the familiar footsteps come closer. 

“Jesse,” Gabe says, his voice low. Jesse doesn’t turn around. 

“What, you wanna talk about it now?”

He hears Gabe huff out a little frustrated noise. “Isn’t that what you want?”

“I dunno, I figure you’re gonna change the plans on me again, boss.”

Jesse can imagine the way Gabe winces at that - he hopes it isn’t wishful thinking, but he still doesn’t turn to look at him, just in case. 

“Plans change,” Gabe says eventually. “You know how things can be.”

That makes Jesse turn. Gabe is farther away than Jesse would’ve thought. He takes a few steps to close the distance between them, getting up in Gabe’s face like he had done in Antonio’s office. 

“Our plans don’t change like  _ that _ ,” Jesse says. “We plan for every eventuality. That was an execution. That wasn’t part of  _ our  _ plan.”

Gabe doesn’t flinch, but he doesn’t meet Jesse’s eyes either. 

“I had to make a call,” Gabe says. “I can’t run every little decision past you.”

That stings. “Right, you’re the boss,” Jesse says. He shakes his head and turns to walk a few paces away. He waves a hand. “What you say goes, I remember how it used to be.”

“This isn’t about us,” Gabe snaps, the frustration finally bleeding into his voice. Jesse feels a twinge of satisfaction at that - at least Gabe isn’t wearing that damned mask with him, even if his words cut deep. “There’s something bigger going on. Someone told Antonio we were coming. We would’ve had to fight our way out anyway.”

“So, what? You kill him so we had less to carry?”

“I killed him because he wasn’t going to give us anything more useful than he already had.”

“You don’t know that!” Jesse shoots back, wheeling back around to face him. 

“He confirmed what I already suspected,” Gabe says. “It was the right choice.”

“Just because the rest of the team agreed with you don’t make it right. Besides, I’m pretty sure Moira skipped her ethics courses back in med school.”

“Jesse.”

“There’s a reason she’s on our team and not in Overwatch.” 

“She has a point.”

“Well maybe I didn’t sign up to be judge, jury and executioner,” Jesse says. 

“Jesse, listen to me,” Gabe says, dropping his voice even lower, going more urgent. “Someone is feeding Talon information, not just on Overwatch, but Blackwatch too. Call me paranoid -”

“You’re paranoid,” Jesse interrupts. “You think Talon doesn’t already have eyes out for a ninja and a guy who dresses like a cowboy?”

“It’s more than that, Jesse,” Gabe says. He steps closer to Jesse, who stays rooted to the spot, watching Gabe warily. “There’s something bigger going on - if it’s rotten from the inside out -”

“Jesus, Gabe. Even if there was something rotten in Overwatch, going out and doing what you did don’t make it right,” Jesse says, turning his head away. Gabe reaches out and seizes Jesse’s left arm, squeezing just on the wrong side of too hard. Jesse looks down at his hand. 

“Listen to me,” Gabe says again. His grip tightens. “What happened to Gerard, to all those people at the base in Rome  - shit like that is only going to get worse if we pretend everything’s alright.”

“When have we ever done that?”

“I need you to trust me,” Gabe says slowly, deliberately. Jesse’s chest seizes up, a sharp ache radiating outwards. It’s a low blow. 

“I do, Gabe. You think I don’t?”

“The way you’re talking -”

Jesse yanks his arm out of Gabe’s grip. Gabe lets his hand fall to his side but doesn’t back off. 

“I covered your ass with Morrison. Things got  _ dicey _ , remember? No telling who shot first,” Jesse says through gritted teeth. It’s not the first time Jesse’s lied to the strike commander and it certainly won’t be the last time, either. He normally doesn’t have a problem with it; Morrison doesn’t need to know all their gory details. 

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Gabe snaps. 

“You don't have to.”

“What if it gets worse?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you still going to have my back if everything goes to shit?”

“Gabe,” Jesse says, shaking his head a little. “How many ways am I gonna have to say I trust you?”

Gabe rubs a hand over his face. He doesn’t say anything for a long time, the lines in his face deepening. He looks tired - exhausted. Jesse’s pretty sure he hasn’t stopped going since the incident at the base in Rome. 

“Gabe,” Jesse says again, his voice softening in spite of himself. He’s still pissed. He still thinks Gabe is in the wrong here, but if there’s actually something bigger going on, Jesse can put his own feelings aside, at least for a little bit. Bickering about it right now isn’t going to get them anywhere. “I trust you, okay? Whatever this is, you’re gonna figure it out.”

“We have to go deeper,” Gabe says finally. He looks back up to meet Jesse’s eyes. “Moira thinks we should go after Talon directly - instead of waiting for them to strike, we should flush out their -”

“I’m sorry, you gotta back up there for a second,” Jesse says. “ _ Moira  _ thinks we oughta hit Talon straight on? And you’re listening to her?”

“You can’t let your personal issues get in the way of -”

“No, no, this ain’t personal. This is you taking advice from your doctor instead of your second in command.”

“It  _ is _ personal, Jesse. Talon made it personal. They hit us where it hurts, and they’ve got it coming,” Gabe says. Jesse gapes at him.

“You can’t be serious,” Jesse says.

“What about this conversation makes you think I’m not taking this seriously?”

“Are you even listening to yourself talk? You’re talking about - about a fucking preemptive strike. Have you thought about what the UN’s gonna say about that?” Jesse asks. 

“They don’t have to know,” Gabe says. 

“Oh, sure, like they didn’t have to know about this whole shit show,” Jesse shoots back. “And it went so well for us.”

“It’ll be different.”

“Why, because you and Moira have a better idea?”

“Jesse, don’t.”

“I’m just having a hard time trying to understand why you’re not listening to me all of a sudden,” Jesse says, the hurt coming into his voice even as he gets louder. “We build Blackwatch from the ground up and you just threw it all away with one bullet in Antonio’s fucking skull.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

“Maybe you can afford to fuck it up - but me? I ain’t got shit outside of Blackwatch. I’m the felon, remember?”

“And now I’m a murderer,” Gabe says, spreading his hands. He looks worryingly unbothered by his own declaration. It nags at the back of Jesse’s mind; he’s seen Gabe when they lose people, or when they’ve had to make a tough call, or when he’s had to spill blood that wasn’t part of a mission plan. But this - this is something else. People have always thought that Gabe was cold and calculating, but that was never the truth. It’s like something finally snapped inside him, and now Gabe has decided to embrace vengeance. 

“Nobody knows that but you, me, Moira and Genji - and ain’t none of us said shit,” Jesse says. He tries a different tack; if the prospect of being labeled a murderer isn’t going to get through to him, maybe something else will. “You’re the hero of the Omnic Crisis. You got cushion. I get thrown out on my ass and that’s it.”

Gabe doesn’t say anything. Jesse grits his teeth and looks away, shoulders heaving as he tries to rein in his emotions. He desperately wants a cigarette. The silence stretches on for a few long, painful moments. 

“Jesse, I just need you to trust me,” Gabe says finally, quietly. Jesse barks out a hollow laugh. He feels like he’s going crazy, talking himself in circles. Gabe might as well be plugging his ears and humming to drown out the sound of Jesse’s voice. 

“Will you stop saying that?”

“I don’t know what to tell you - you either trust that I’ve got this under control or you don’t.”

“It’s not about trusting you, Gabe! I’m saying - what I’m saying is that we can do this  _ together _ ,” Jesse says. “I’m trying to help you and you’re not listening to a damn thing I say. I need  _ you _ to trust  _ me _ . Let me help you.  _ Listen to me _ .”

Gabe looks at Jesse for a long moment, his expression going unreadable in a way that Jesse always finds infuriating. He bites his tongue, though, meeting Gabe’s look with a hard stare of his own. His heart is pounding in his throat; Jesse needs Gabe to see sense, to listen to him, to trust him. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep doing this if this is the path Gabe’s going to venture down. 

Something flickers across Gabe’s face. His shoulders sag and his hand comes up to rub at his eyes. 

“I’m listening, Jesse,” Gabe says, his voice coming out beaten down and weary. Jesse feels relief wash over him, even though he’s trying not to get his hopes up too much. 

“Look - you’re just tired. We’re both tired. We had - it’s been a long couple of days,” Jesse says. “We don’t gotta figure it all out right this second.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“We can afford to take a few hours to sleep. It’s still gonna be a mess when we wake up.”

“Yeah.”

Side by side, Jesse and Gabe leave the lounge and make their way back down to their quarters. Gabe pauses at the hallway that veers off to the officer’s quarters. 

“Do you…?” he starts to ask, letting the question trail off, hanging in the air uncertainly between them. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says. Gabe turns down the hall and Jesse keeps pace at his side until they get to Gabe’s door. Gabe keys in the code and stands aside to let Jesse step inside ahead of him. As the door slides closed behind them, Gabe wraps his strong arms around Jesse from behind, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. Jesse stays stiff for a moment - he’s still pissed, he’s still scared - but the warmth of Gabe’s bulk against his back is comforting and familiar. He closes his eyes and lets his breath out. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Gabe says, muffled. 

“We will.”

“Together.”

“Yeah, Gabe, together.”

Jesse turns in Gabe’s arms to face him. Gabe tilts his head up to meet Jesse’s eyes. Jesse scans his face; up close, like this, Gabe looks even more tired, an edge of vulnerability that belie his earlier words. 

“It shouldn’t have come to this,” Gabe says. A lump forms in Jesse’s throat. He swallows around it. 

“Yeah, well. You shouldn’t have shot Antonio.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

“At least not until we figure out a way to make it right,” Jesse says. “And I’m still pissed at you.”

“We’re going to figure it out.”

“We’re gonna have to.”

Gabe breathes out. “Yeah.”

Jesse leans forward and presses a small, brief kiss to the corner of Gabe’s mouth before he untangles himself from Gabe’s arms. He moves towards his bed. 

“We should really try to get some shut-eye,” Jesse says. He kicks off his boots and lines them up against the wall, keeping an ear cocked towards Gabe. After a moment, he hears Gabe move into his bathroom and then the water in the sink starts running. Jesse lets himself sink down to the edge of the bed. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, and takes a couple of deep breaths. 

It’s going to be okay. They’re going to figure it out. Jesse trusts Gabe. They’ll get through this. 

Jesse strips down to his underwear and slides under the sheets, curling up on his side and facing the wall. He closes his eyes. 

A few minutes later, the bed dips under Gabe’s weight. The warm length of his body spoons up behind Jesse, familiar and grounding, one hand sliding up Jesse’s hip. He feels the tickle of Gabe’s facial hair on the back of his neck, then his dry, slightly chapped lips pressing against the knob of bone there. Jesse lets his breath out, relaxing just a little bit. Gabe leans away to turn the light off before he settles back down, spooning up against Jesse’s back, his nose buried in Jesse’s hair.

It’s comfortable and familiar. Jesse lets his body give in to his exhaustion. His eyes slip closed, his breathing evens out. 

“I’m sorry, Jesse,” Gabe says into the darkness, barely loud enough to hear, even as close to Jesse as he is. Suddenly, Jesse is wide awake, the tension returning to his shoulders. 

An apology. It’s something Jesse didn’t expect, for as stubborn as Gabe’s been about this whole thing; Gabe was so convinced he was right in killing Antonio, in going off course, but now… An apology? 

Jesse starts to get up, but Gabe tightens his arm around his waist. 

“Don’t go, please,” Gabe says softly.

“Gabe -”

“I know, okay? I just - I need you to stay.”

Jesse turns onto his side to look at him. It’s mostly too dark to see anything other than the glint of Gabe’s eyes. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jesse says, his own voice going quiet. He means it, too; as angry as he may be, Gabe is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. They’ve gone through plenty of shit together before and, even though this feels huge, course-changing, Jesse doesn’t plan on dipping out now. 

Gabe exhales and then he ducks forward, crushing his mouth to Jesse’s, all desperation and pent up emotion behind his rough lips and teeth. Jesse wraps his arms around Gabe and drags him in, letting some of his own frustration and anger bleed into his kiss. Gabe tips his head back, letting Jesse attack his mouth, his hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck, his fingers stroking the hair there. Jesse keeps kissing him, bruising, deep kisses, his hands grabbing at Gabe’s waist hard, until they’re both panting for air. 

“Jesse,” Gabe says, an edge to his voice. 

“Not going anywhere,” Jesse says. He sucks Gabe’s lower lip into his mouth, worrying at it with his teeth until Gabe makes a small noise that, from any other man, might be considered a whimper, but rings like another apology in Jesse’s ears. Jesse makes a sound deep in his chest, pushing at Gabe until he rolls into his back. He swarms over Gabe immediately, pinning him down on the bed, attacking his mouth until Gabe’s lips are wet and swollen then moving down to drag his teeth over Gabe’s throat. Jesse’s rough - rougher than he means to be - but it only seems to make Gabe’s breathing pick up faster. He drags his fingers down Gabe’s bare chest, digging his blunt nails into his skin. He wants to mark Gabe up, leave him with scratches and bruises - it’s possessive in a way that Jesse has no right being, but he can’t help it. Gabe’s breath hitches as Jesse’s nails scrape through the trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his underwear. “You gonna tell me what you want this time? Or are you gonna leave me high and dry?”

“Jesse -”

“What’s it gonna be, Gabe?” Jesse asks. He sucks a mark into the skin over Gabe’s collarbone. Gabe’s head falls back against the mattress and he moans, hands grabbing at Jesse’s shoulders. 

“Please -”

“Do you trust me?” Jesse asks, moving his lips to Gabe’s ear. He feels Gabe shudder underneath him. 

“Y-you know I do.”

“Say it.”

“I trust you.”

Jesse turns Gabe’s head with one hand gripping his chin and kisses him deeply, tongue sweeping between Gabe’s lips. His other hand reaches between them to palm Gabe’s erection through the thin barrier of his underwear. Jesse rubs his thumb over the length of him and presses into the top. He feels something damp, and realizes it’s precome already welling up through the fabric. 

Jesse pulls away, sitting back on his heels and manhandling Gabe over into his stomach. Gabe goes without a fight, spreading his legs for Jesse. Jesse leaves him there for the moment, reaching for the nightstand drawer for lube. He comes back to Gabe and settles between his legs. He runs a hand up the back of Gabe’s thigh, fingers dipping under the hem of one leg. With one quick motion, Jesse digs his fingers into the fabric and rips so he can get at Gabe’s ass. Gabe makes a muffled sound into the mattress. Jesse spreads his cheeks with both hands, pressing his thumb dry against Gabe’s hole. Gabe squirms and makes that sound again. 

“This isn’t about what you want,” Jesse growls. Gabe spreads his legs a little wider, canting his hips up and back under Jesse’s hand. Jesse picks up the bottle of lube again and slicks two of his fingers. He spreads Gabe’s cheeks apart with one hand and presses his fingers against his hole without further preamble. Gabe hisses through his teeth but shoves his hips back. Jesse pushes down on the small of his back, pinning him to the mattress so he can’t move as he fucks him open with his fingers. He doesn’t take his time like he usually does, opting for fast and sloppy, as if he can fuck some sense into Gabe. Maybe he can - maybe that’s what will get through to him. 

Jesse pulls his fingers away so he can pull his cock out of his underwear. He shoves the waistband down under his balls as he drizzles more lube over the length of his cock. He gives himself a few jerky tugs, smearing the lube around, before he presses the tip of dick against Gabe’s hole. He feels Gabe flutter and flex underneath him. Jesse braces himself over Gabe with both hands holding himself up on the small of Gabe’s back and thrusts into him with a snap of his hips. 

It’s not enough prep - not enough lube - but Jesse wants Gabe to feel it. Gabe cries out, his voice muffled from where his face is pressed against the mattress. His fingers scrabble to grip the sheets to get enough purchase to shove his hips back more. Jesse withdraws until just the tip of his cock is barely holding Gabe open, then thrusts in hard again. Gabe’s voice breaks on this cry. Jesse does it again, then again, until the tension goes out of Gabe’s body, opening up around Jesse, the walls coming down, letting him in. Jesse hunches over him, fucking into Gabe roughly but steadily. The clench of his ass around his dick is molten hot and deliciously tight, the lack of lube amplifying the sensation. Jesse leans down and bites into Gabe’s shoulder, feeling Gabe clench up around his dick. He does it again, in another spot, taking time to leave a mark behind. 

Neither of them speak any more; the only sound that fills the room is the sharp slap of skin on skin and their heavy breathing. Jesse flattens out over Gabe’s back, cheek pressed to his shoulder. He squeezes his eyes closed and listens to Gabe’s hitching breath, his small, gasping inhales with each thrust. Jesse isn’t going to last long - the combination of his anger and exhaustion sending him quickly tumbling over the edge. He wants to hold out, to make Gabe feel every inch of him, make Gabe realize that Jesse is going to be there every step of the way, even when he pisses him the fuck off. 

Jesse pushes himself back up with shaky arms. Jesse grabs Gabe by the hips and lifts him up, guiding him back to meet Jesse’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 

“Fuck, fuck Gabe -” Jesse swears. He lets out a strangled groan as his hips stutter. He slams into Gabe hard, nearly flattening him back against the mattress. He holds there as his cock twitches and spills into Gabe; he can feel Gabe’s ass flutter and clench around him, as if to draw him in, right where he belongs. 

Jesse rolls to the side almost immediately, lying out on his back and breathing hard. Gabe doesn’t move either. The two of them lie still, listening to each other’s breathing. 

Eventually, Jesse turns his head towards Gabe. He can’t make out his face. 

“Okay?” he asks into the darkness. He feels Gabe shift next to him. His weight on the bed shifts and then Gabe scoots in close, draping an arm over Jesse’s chest and spooning up against his side. Jesse lets his breath out. He turns his head and presses a soft, gentle kiss to Gabe’s temple. 

“Yeah,” Gabe says, his voice coming out hoarse. 

“We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Gabe,” Jesse says, his lips pressed to the hair at Gabe’s temple. Gabe’s arm tightens around Jesse’s torso. 

“I love you too, Jesse.”

Jesse gathers Gabe up close. He listens to Gabe’s breathing deepen and even out, letting the familiar rhythm soothe him. After what feels like hours, it works. Jesse finally drifts off to sleep, his breath syncing with Gabe’s. 

=-=-=

Morning comes too soon, and both of their comms start ringing early. Jesse and Gabe drag themselves out of bed and automatically move through the paces of their morning routine, stepping around each other to get fresh uniforms, one reaching over the other to grab a toothbrush, handing the other a tablet that won’t stop chiming. They join the others in the Blackwatch command center, which is already abuzz with clean up. Gabe goes in one direction and Jesse goes in the other, dividing and conquering the issues like they are so used to doing. They barely have to speak, anticipating each other’s questions and decisions with startling precision. 

It feels good, it feels right. 

“Everything better in relationship land?” Wake Newton asks Jesse at some point late in the afternoon, leaning across a table as Jesse works through some translations of intercepted transmissions. Jesse glances up without lifting his head. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jesse asks. Wake shrugs. 

“Just that you two were pretty cold on the shuttle once we pulled you out for extraction,” she says. Jesse shrugs, looking back down at his tablet. 

“It’s fine,” Jesse says. He taps his stylus on the table. “Just - you know. Things got messy.”

“Mm,” Wake says. Jesse can feel her eyes on him, but he refuses to look up. She huffs out a frustrated little breath. “Well you both seem like you’re back to normal, now.”

Jesse lifts his head, searching out Gabe. He finds him almost immediately, as if Jesse already knew where he was standing. Gabe looks up at the exact moment, meeting Jesse’s eyes, and giving him a small nod. Jesse feels the corner of his mouth twitch up. 

“You know how it is,” Jesse says, picking up his tablet again. “We’re better as a team.”


End file.
